The cupcake was once all innocence: a stub of cake, a swirl of frosting. On a dressy day, adorned with a sprinkle.

It worked the birthday-party circuit for the under-6 crowd. It didn't mind. It was the sidekick, junior, the kid in the pastel pan liner. Not cake, but cakelet, cake-in-a-cup, cupcake.

We know what came next: success, excess, stress. How long can a cupcake endure the spotlight before succumbing to meltdown? Now the glamorous cupcake is considered passe. Been there, bit that.

Not that we mind. We liked the old-fashioned cupcake, short and sweet. We even liked the industrial cupcake — at least its glaze-and-curlicue style, its cream-stuffed construction, if not its plastic-wrapped actuality.

There's something mesmerizing about that smooth dark surface, the white link of loops. It seems like an incantation in sugared cursive. Something like: eat, praise, love.

Now we hear that Hostess, maker of the nostalgia-chic cupcake, has filed for bankruptcy protection. Which gives it a certain life experience that's thoroughly au courant.

Fill: Fit a pastry bag with a wide, plain tip. Fill bag with fluff. Turn a cupcake over, poke with the tip of the pastry bag, and squeeze to fill. Stop when the cupcake bulges ever so slightly. Return cupcake to its upright position. Repeat with remaining cupcakes.

Glaze: Grasp a filled cupcake gently by its sides. Dip head-first into warm glaze. Flip right side up onto a rack and let set. Don't fret over glaze drips. Repeat with remaining cupcakes.